


Simple Gifts

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Singing, Underage Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 'twill be in the valley of love and delight. </p><p>NOTICE: I've had to orphan this work. I deeply apologize for any annoyance this causes. I love this story so much and it breaks my heart to do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I can close my eyes, and it's already here

Erik took a long, deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a heavy sigh. It was dusk, and the park was deserted, save for the neighborhood bums sleeping on their bags of trash-bin findings.

Soon enough, he heard the jingling of a boy running with his backpack sloppily slung around one shoulder. He plopped down on the bench next to Erik, scraping his hands through his dark-brown hair as he did so.

Erik glanced over at the young man. "Piss off," he grumbled halfheartedly.

"Nice to see you too, Erik," the boy laughed.

"What do you want, Charles?"

"We can't have a normal conversation today?"

"Not really, no. There's nothing to talk about," Erik dismissed, blowing rings of smoke.

"Nature. Life. Genetics. Biology. The human condition."

"Something not so dull, please."

"Money?

"No."

"Sex?"

Erik looked at Charles incredulously. "Definitely not."

"You're in such a good mood today," Charles remarked.

Charles shook his backpack off his shoulder and dropped it on the ground with a _thunk._ "How did the move go?" He asked.

"Fine."

"So you're glad to be away from your roommates?"

"Dear God, yes."

"How was that honors biology test you were panicking about?"

"It was okay. I think I might have gotten one of them wrong. I didn't study that part of the chapter very well," Charles groaned, pressing the heel of his hands into his forehead. "I need to get an A in that course or I'm never going to get into the genetics program at Harvard."

"Calm down. Either way, you're getting yourself into a good college. You're not gonna be in my place anytime soon."

"Hey. You're doing great.You've got your own apartment—"

"The size of a closet, mind you."

"—And you've got a great job and everything."

"I wouldn't call cleaning hospitals a 'great job'."

"You get paid a lot more than a regular janitor. Y'know, all those sanitization requirements."

"Whatever."

Charles looked down for a moment, and cursed under his breath. "Fuck, my trousers are unzipped," he said, zipping up his fly quickly.

Erik snorts.

"Do you have to giggle every time I say 'trousers'?"

"Your'e just so British," Erik smirked. "And I didn't giggle. Giggling is undignified."

"Who says giggling is undignified?"

"Says me."

"Since when did you create the laws of the universe?"

"Since I was eleven years older than you."

"Don't give me that bullshit. What happened to your 'we're all equals' philosophy?"

"Let me rephrase. 'We're all equals, except Erik creates the laws of the universe."

"Thanks."

"No problem, sweetheart."

Charles' face flushed at the term of endearment, no matter how facetiously Erik had meant it to be. He reigned himself in. _Get a hold of of yourself, Charles, he's fucking twenty-eight._

Erik was still smoking his cigarette, it's sensual, almost erotic how he blows the smoke out in long, soft exhales so that the smoke curls ethereally around them. Charles had always been curious as to why Erik liked his smokes so much. Being such a straight-laced kid, Charles hadn't smoked or had a beer in his entire high school career. He didn't really get invited to parties anyway. But he thought that none of his classmates could be quite as infatuated with cigarettes as Erik was, and Charles wondered why that was. 

Charles reached out to take Erik's cigarette. Erik stopped him with a hand in the air. 

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I want to try."

"Do you want to get cancer?"

Charles glared at Erik impatiently. 

"Jesus. Here."

Erik handed the cigarette to Charles, who had no idea what to do. He put his lips around it, trying not to think about how Erik's lips were on it just a matter of seconds before ( _Charles, what's the matter with you_ ), and inhaled. He tried and failed to suppress a rather violent coughing fit.

"Told you it wasn't a good idea," Erik chuckled.

"Shut up," Charles replied curtly, handing the cigarette back to Erik.

"Here," Erik said. Charles turned his head to find Erik far closer than he was a moment ago. Erik took a drag of the cigarette, tilted Charles' chin up with his free hand, and blew the smoke into his mouth.

Charles' stomach flipped with ecstasy as he felt the light, ghosting brush of Erik's lips on his own. _it'snotakissit'snotakiss_ , _oh god we're fucking shotgunning and it's the sexiest thing I have ever done in my life._

Charles breathed the smoke out and glances up at Erik, cheeks hot. Erik can't help but smile. He suspects Charles might have a crush on him, and in all honesty, he finds it rather endearing. 

"How was that?" Erik asked.

"Good. Yeah, yes, good, very good."

Erik smiled. He did feel very affectionate toward the boy, he'll admit it. Charles was the closest thing Erik has had to a true friend.

He still remembered the day they met.

***

_Erik decided to take his friday evening walk in the park in the next neighborhood over; he was growing tired of the route he usually took around his block. He stepped foot from the sidewalk to the grass, and dug around in his jacket pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. He lit the cigarette and took a puff. He walked past a "no smoking" sign and snorted. Like anyone's going to enforce that at seven-thirty in the evening._

_He made his way through the park; it was relatively small, and it didn't boast a big playground like the one downtown. It had a simple swingset, some picnic tables, a few benches, and a little duck pond. Erik enjoyed the quaint little park, and decided it was a much better setting than around his block, which had a mentally ill woman who took care of thirty cats, several old ladies, his dumpy apartment building, and a "herbal medication dispensary." God, he wanted to move._

_Once he had enough money, though. Being a janitor wasn't exactly a well-paying line of work, even though it was the disgusting shit that nobody wanted to do._

_Erik decided to sit down on a bench that just came into his line of sight. As he neared the bench, he heard someone. Someone singing?_

_It's gonna be the future soon_  
 _And I won't always be this way_  
 _When the things that make me weak and strange get engineered away_  
 _It's gonna be the future soon_  
 _I've never seen it quite so clear_  
 _When my heart is breaking, I can close my eyes, and it's already here._

_Erik chuckled at the young boy singing his heart out, standing on a picnic table. He couldn't have been more than sixteen._

_I'll prob'ly be some kind of scientist_  
 _Building inventions in my space lab in space_  
 _I'll end world hunger, I'll make dolphins speak_  
 _Work through the daytimes, spend my nights and weekends_  
 _Perfecting my warrior robot race_  
 _Building them one laser gun at a time_  
 _But I'll do my best to teach them_  
 _About life, and what it's worth_  
 _I just hope that I can keep them from destroying the Earth,_  
 _'Cause it's gonna be the future soon,  
 _ _And I won't always be this way…__ _

_Erik had coughed without realizing it. Shit. He wanted the boy to keep singing._

_"Sorry," the boy said, loud enough for Erik to hear. His cheeks were flushed and his hand reached to scratch the back of his head. He looked utterly embarrassed._

_"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. You have a lovely voice," Erik smiled._

_"Thank you," the boy had said._

_They stood in silence. The boy must have felt rather ridiculous standing on the picnic table, because he quickly looked down, squeaked, and jumped off._

_"Name's Charles," the boy told Erik._

_"Erik," he responded. "Nice to meet you, Charles."_

_"Will I see you around?"_

_"Maybe," Erik laughed, patting the boy, Charles, on the shoulder before he continued his walk._

_He came back the next Friday night, and Charles was there, eagerly sitting atop the same picnic table. His face turned bright red when he saw Erik._

_"You came," Charles said. "I didn't think you would."_

_"I take a walk every Friday night," Erik said, which was true, but why he had come this route was another reason entirely. He had wanted to see the singing boy he met last week._

_"Want to hear the song I've been working on?"_

_"Yeah, sure."_

****

"So, how was your voice lesson this week?" Erik asked, crushing his cigarette against the bench and tossing it in a nearby trashcan.

"Good! Really good. I'm working on O Magnum Mysterium. Victoria's arrangement, it's lovely." Suddenly, Charles looked as if he committed a heinous crime. "Not to say I don't still love Lauridsen's though."

"Charles, you know I have no idea what you're talking about," Erik grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. Do you want to hear me sing or not?"

"I always want to hear you sing."

Charles grinned. He hopped onto his feet, standing in front of Erik, took the tuning fork he carried around his neck like a pendant, knocked it against the bench to make it vibrate and put it against his ear. Erik could see Charles working out the proper pitch to start on, his tongue poking out in frustration. He always complained that he didn't have perfect pitch. "Sean can sing any note you want him to, on command, out of the blue. I have to bloody hear it first," he had told Erik.

Charles seemed to have found his note because he tucked the tuning fork back into his shirt, placed his hands at his sides, and took a deep breath.

  


_O magnum mysterium,  
Et admirabile sacramentum.  
O magnum mysterium,  
Et admirabile  
Et admirabile sacrementum.  
Ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,  
Viderent Dominum natum.  
Jacentem in praesepio,  
Jacentem in praesepio  
O beata Virgo, cujus viscera meruerunt  
Portare Dominum Jesum Christum.  
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia._  


Charles had been looking in the distance while he sang; he always did. When he turned back to look at Erik, he seemed nervous. 

"That was beautiful, Charles," Erik said.

"How come you get all soft when I sing," Charles poked fun.

"How come you're being such an asshole?"

"There's the Erik I know," Charles giggled. He looked up at Erik again, his expression earnest. "Look, Erik, I—"

Charles' phone began to buzz incessantly. "Shit," Charles said, "That's my mum. I probably need to go home now," Charles grumbled. He answered the phone. 

"Yeah, mum. I'm fine. You ok? Ok. Good. I'll make you some pasta when I get home, alright? Stop worrying. Love you. Bye."

Charles snapped his phone shut. "Better be getting back."

"How is she?" Erik asked softly.

"Better. She had a bit of a breakdown last week, but she's on new meds now, and they seem to be working out better than the last ones."

"That's good. See you next week, Charles."

"Yeah. See you."

Charles grabbed his backpack and hefted the weight onto his shoulder (always the one shoulder, the boy was going to pull a muscle heaving around that thing). He glanced the bus approaching the stop on the next street, cursed, then ran as fast as he could to catch it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Charles is seventeen and Erik is twenty-eight. This story will eventually be Mature, possibly Explicit.  
> Songs this chapter:  
> Future Soon by Jonathan Coulton (Charles loves the Spizzwinks cover): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjRjwNUg8hU  
> O Magnum Mysterium by Tomas Luis de Victoria: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeKvNxYMDxE


	2. Vertigo

"I was going to ask you last week, Erik," Charles started.

"Yes?" Erik said, tapping some ash off the end of his cigarette.

Charles fidgeted. He tapped his fingers against the bench. He could do this. He chickened out last week, but this week he could do this. It wasn't a date— just another way to hang out, after all, they've been seeing each other every week for four months now, for god's sake.

"I was wondering if… If you'd like to go see a movie with me," Charles finally blurted out.

Erik looked taken aback. _Fuck, fuck, this was a bad idea,_ Charles thought frantically.

Erik looked thoughtful for a moment. "Sure, why not," he grinned, the toothy smile that Charles loved so much.

Charles laughed. "Great! Um, there's a seven o' clock showing of _Vertigo_ at the old theatre tomorrow, I hope you like Hitchcock." Tomorrow was Erik's day off. Charles had made sure to slip the question in earlier.

"Aw, not _The Birds_?"

"That movie scares the living shit out of me," Charles said.

"Well, it's my day off tomorrow, so might as well," Erik figured. "You want my cell in case the theatre blows up or something?"

Charles' heart leaped in his chest. "S-sure," he stuttered, grabbing his phone from out of his pocket.

They exchanged numbers, and Erik promised to call if there was some sort of janitorial emergency at the hospital. They parted ways, Erik patting Charles' shoulder.

***

Saturday came, and Charles spent nearly an hour getting himself ready. He shaved the stubble on his chin and neck, applied aftershave, combed his hair just so, put on his favorite blue-and-white pinstriped button-down, headed for the door, remembered deodorant and ran back to his bathroom to put some on, then kissed his mum goodbye and started for the bus stop.

He got to the theatre twenty minutes early, ( _of course Erik wasn't there yet_ ). He bought two tickets and leaned against a street lamp outside, waiting for Erik to arrive.

Five minutes before seven, Charles' phone vibrated. He flipped it open, his face lighting up when he saw _text from Erik Lensherr_ displayed on the screen.

_\--took me forever to find a parking spot, be there in a few._

Charles smiled and typed back a response.

_k. i bought the tickets. i'm making you pay for popcorn._

_\--fuck you._

_:)_

Erik soon appeared, apologizing again for his tardiness. He looked gorgeous, wearing a grey t-shirt, an unbuttoned black blazer, and a pair of dark blue jeans which fit him perfectly in all the right places. Charles tried to restrain himself from ogling and handed Erik his ticket.

Erik bought popcorn and a packet of m n' m's. "Let me show you the most perfect movie snack of all time," he announced, and dumped the m n' m's into the popcorn, mixing them together.

Charles was wary, but took a handful, and it tasted absolutely awesome.

They sat in the middle, towards the left of the theatre. The movie proved to be as intense as Rotten Tomatoes said it was, and Charles was soon gripping his armrests for dear life. Erik gave commentary every once and a while, when Charles was looking particularly pale, and Charles was grateful for the hushed jokes in his ear. He then promptly had a rather inappropriate thought about Erik whispering in his ear during sex. _No, no, I do not want a hard-on right now, stop it._

The movie finally ended, Charles heaving a huge sigh of relief. After an extremely awkward visit to the restroom (Charles panicked and used a stall,) they exited the theatre. Charles checked the bus schedule and cursed when he saw the buses had stopped for the day. He pulled at his hair, wondering if he could get his mother to pick him up.

Erik seemed to sense Charles' panic. "Do you need a ride?" Erik asked.

"Yeah," Charles said, hating to impose on Erik.

"You're only a few blocks away from my apartment, Charles, it's not a big deal."

Charles nodded, and Erik led the way to where he had parked. They discussed the movie, and Charles tried not to gasp when he felt Erik's hand press lightly into the small of his back.

"I thought the ending was a shit way to wrap it up," Erik stated.

"I'm just happy it ended," Charles laughed. "I don't think I can handle suspense very well."

"I could tell," Erik smirked, giving Charles a wink. _No, stay down, you nasty bugger,_ and then Charles giggled, _dear lord, I'm talking to my dick._

Erik and Charles got into the car. Their neck of the woods was about a fifteen minute drive away from the movie theatre.

After a bit, there was a lull in conversation. Charles searched for something to fill the silence, and came up with just about nothing. His mind automatically went back to music.

He realized there was an extremely important question he'd never asked Erik. He turned to him and began to speak. "Um, Erik?"

"Yes, Charles?"

"Do… do you have a favorite song?"

Erik smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, Charles," he replied. "Mine's 'Simple Gifts'."

Charles had heard that song before, although he had never sung it himself. It was a languid, beautiful song, and for some reason it seemed to fit Erik perfectly.

Erik stole a glance towards Charles, took a breath, and began to sing.

_'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,  
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,  
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,  
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight._

Charles nearly melted. Erik's voice was _perfect_. Soft, velvety, with a hint of gravel that maturity and years of cigarettes had given him. Charles wanted so badly to kiss Erik, it hurt.

"That was beautiful, Erik," Charles breathed.

Erik chuckled. "I'm no professional," he said. "Just a shower singer."

Charles was definitely _not_ thinking about Erik in the shower.

"We should sing together sometime," Charles said.

"You think we'd sound good together?" Erik asked.

"Yes, I think we would," Charles smiled.

***

That night, when Charles closed his eyes, he could feel the press of Erik's hand against his back, Erik's soft singing in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simple Gifts, an old Shaker hymn: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIx57ATBgZg


	3. Mister Party

Friday soon came around again. Erik got off work a half an hour late; he hoped that Charles was still at the park.

Of course, Charles was; patiently sitting, his nose buried in a book on genetics.

Erk sat down next to Charles. "You should be doing your homework," he noted.

"I did most of it," Charles replied, "Genetics is more interesting."

"If you say so," Erik said, pulling out a lighter and a cigarette, lighting it. "You still working on that song in voice class?"

"Ah, no," Charles said, "I'm preparing my recital pieces."

"You've got a recital? You never told me," Erik nudged Charles with an elbow.

"Hey, I was going to invite you to come," Charles justified. "It's next Sunday. At three, at the library."

"At the library?"

"They have an auditorium, and a piano, and it's cheap to rent out on a Sunday afternoon," Charles pointed out.

Erik nodded. "I'll do my best to see if I can take a late lunch break. It's not going to be more than an hour, is it?"

"No, shouldn't be too long. My voice teacher only has five students this year."

When the conversation came to an impasse, Charles went back to reading his book. He looked exhausted; there were dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders were slumped, and it looked like he was about to fall asleep right then and there.

"You alright, Charles?" Erik asked, concerned.

"Yeah, um." Charles started. "Fine, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Erik noted, glancing Charles up and down. 

Charles sighed. "My mum's not doing so well."

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly.

"She's never been this bad," Charles mumbled, "Well, except for when Dad left, but I was five and I hardly remember it."

"You should go home and get some rest," Erik said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Charles' ear. 

Charles smiled a bit, appreciating the contact. "Yeah. I just— I just want her to be okay, you know?"

"I understand," Erik said. He cared deeply about his own mother, who had died when he was no younger than Charles. The first thing that Erik and Charles had really bonded over was their lack of family; Erik had no-one, Charles had his schizoaffective mother who was barely holding herself together.

"I'd like to be able to go out more often," Charles complained, "my damned mother is falling apart at the seams, and I can't be there for her my whole life, she has to know that. I mean, I got invited to my first high school party and I don't think I can even go."

"When's the party?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Charles, it's a Saturday tomorrow, for god's sake, you shouldn't obligate yourself into being stuck at home with your mother."

"Yeah, well," Charles shrugged. "I'll see what I can do."

***

— _Having fun?_

_yeah. we're playing truth or dare_

Erik stared at his phone in quiet shock.

— _Kinky._

_shut up. it's fun_

_DILDOOOOS ANYONE?_

_Im gonna fuck u so hard 2nite_

_blowwww me_

There was a pause. Erik raised an eyebrow and waited for the next text to come.

_FUCK erik i'm sorry, they took my phone!!_

Erik laughed.

— _How did they manage that?_

_i'm ticklish._

— _Cute._

Erik didn't get a response after that. He dismissed it. Charles was probably having the time of his life right now. First high school party? Erik drank his heart out and smoked things he'd never even heard of. He'd let Charles be.

Truth or Dare, huh. Hope it wasn't getting too mature. Had Charles even had his first kiss yet? He certainly didn't want Charles to have his first kiss drunk with someone he hardly knows. It should be with someone he knows, it should mean something.

Why did Erik care about this all of a sudden?

Erik sighed and ran his hand over his face. He hadn't gotten laid in months. Probably just had pent-up sexual frustration he needed to get out of his system.

***

Erik got a call at one in the morning. He had just taken a shower and was going to turn in for the night. He had the early shift tomorrow and was not looking forward to waking up at six.

Erik grumbled and picked up his phone, hoping it wasn't Alex asking him to take over his shift for the third time this month. A glance at the screen told him _Call from Charles Xavier_.

"Hello?"

"Heyyyy, Erik!!"

"Hello, Charles. You sound like you're enjoying yourself."

"I swear I'm not drunk."

Erik heard a hiccup.

"Okay, maybe a tiny bit."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Why are you calling?"

"Just wanted to hear your voice, really," Charles sighed. _Absolutely smashed,_ Erik concluded.

"By the way, um, my mum would _kill_ me if she found out about this party business, and the bus line is done for the night, soooooo…"

"You want me to pick you up," Erik noted.

"I'll be your best friend foreeeever—"

"Alright. Tell me where to get you."

***

"Y'know, honestly, I feel fine," Charles said, focusing too much on staying articulate and not enough on keeping himself upright. Erik caught him before he faceplanted on the concrete.

"Come on, Charles, let's head to the car," he said, putting his hands on Charles' shoulders to make sure he didn't fall again.

The car ride back to Charles' house was rather uneventful; Erik took a box of crackers out of the glove compartment and made Charles eat some ("I will not have you passing out in my car"). Charles seemed content to ramble half-coherently about how hilarious it was that the hottest girl in the class, Raven made out with Hank, the class nerd, how Moira put lipstick on Logan, and various other teenage shenanigans. 

"Alright, Charles, I believe this is your street," Erik began. "Mind giving me the address?"

"Three-zero-four," Charles slurred.

Erik spotted the number 304 painted on the curb, and parked in front of a cute one-story house with a patch of flowers out front. 

"This your place?" Erik asked.

Charles took a quick, drunken look out the window. "Yeah."

When Charles made no move to get up, Erik grumbled and got out of the car. He opened the passenger door for Charles and lifted him out by the elbow. "Alright, mister party, time to go back home, and hopefully not wake your mother in the process."

Charles giggled. "Mister party."

Charles moved the arm Erik had captured and curled his hand around Erik's bicep. He leaned in until his forehead was pressed against Erik's chest, and inhaled deeply. "You smell good," he murmured, thumbing little circles on Erik's arm. Erik took a sharp breath. 

"Charles," Erik warned, closing his eyes. Charles moved to wrap his arms around Erik's neck, slowly, slowly moving his face along Erik's cheek, feeling the rasp of day-old stubble. Erik gripped Charles' elbow harder, a silent plea to _stop this, you're seventeen_ but Charles took no heed, pressing his lips against Erik's neck.

"Charles, go home. You're drunk," _oh god, is that his tongue,_ "Fuck, you're drunk--" He pushed Charles away. "You're going to regret this in the morning."

"No I'm not."

Erik took hold of Charles' shoulder and dragged him to the door. Charles fumbled for his house key, found it, and opened the door. 

"G'night, Erik, thanks for the ride," he said.

"Good night, Charles. See you Friday."

Charles smiled brightly at the mention of their weekly hang-out, then promptly yawned. 

"I'm gonna go to bed now," Charles muttered, closing the door behind him.

Erik took a deep breath, running his hand over his neck, trying to rub Charles' kiss away.


	4. Alles Ist Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end of chapter notes for spoilery warning.

  


Erik was doing his daily mopping of the ER. It was rather clean today, no blood, vomit, or unidentifiable gunk was splattered on the floor, so he thought it would be a quick stop. When he was finishing up, the ambulance drop-off doors to the emergency room slammed open, a group of paramedics rushing in. They were yelling at each other, pushing a woman on a gurney straight through the aisle to the elevator.

"She's lost a lot of blood," Erik heard one man say, "we need two bags of type-O, stat!"

The calamity became muffled when the elevator doors shut. Erik sighed and wiped his forehead. He managed not to spill any of his dirty mop water on the floor in the panic. Rolling up his sleeves a bit, he continued to mop, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Let me see her! Let me see her, she's my mother!!"

Erik's heart stopped.

In the doorway was Charles, wailing, trying to escape the grasp of two doctors holding him back.

Fuck.

Erik's mop clattered to the floor as he sprinted towards Charles. "Get back to work," he barked to the doctors, "I'll take care of him."

After an angry look from Erik, the doctors released Charles.

Erik cupped Charles' face and wiped his tears away. Charles whined and pulled Erik into a tight embrace. Erik hugged back with no intention of letting go. Charles gripped at Erik's dirty work shirt, weeping.

"I need to go to her, she needs me, Erik, please," Charles cried.

Erik shushed Charles, stroking his hair. "Let the doctors take care of her, Charles, I promise you can see her soon."

Charles tried to say something, but it came out as a pained gurgle. Erik gripped Charles tighter.

***

Erik led Charles to the waiting room. Erik looked around; the room was full of people pacing back and forth, children crying, families holding each other tight as they waited for their loved ones to emerge from surgery.

Erik sat Charles down on a couch. Charles curled up into a ball, hugging his knees. Erik rubbed his hand up and down Charles' back, trying to sooth him.

"I came home from school," he started, "And I couldn't find mum, and there was a note on the table—"

Charles started to cry again. Erik waited patiently for Charles to start talking again, keeping his hand firm on Charles' back.

"And it said some bullshit like, 'I love you, but I just can't take life anymore,' and I ran, and found mum in her bedroom… And…And she had slit all the way up her arms and her legs, and there was so much _blood_ …"

Another wave of tears shook Charles, and Erik held him steady, whispering soothing words in German, an automatic, subconscious response to his loved ones crying. _Alles ist okay. Alles ist okay..._

"Is that German?" Charles mumbled, his face buried into Charles' shoulder.

Erik was confused for a moment. "Didn't realize I had switched," he said, realizing. "Thought I stopped doing that a long time ago. But yes, I'm from Germany. I moved here when I was eight to live with my aunt after my parents…. After I couldn't be properly taken care of there."

Charles didn't seem to be listening. His breaths were coming in deep, controlled inhales and exhales, doing his best to stop crying.

"Isn't your boss going to get angry?" Charles asked, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"I'll tell him I have a family emergency. One of my coworkers can take over my shift, I'm not the only custodian here."

Charles nodded glumly, and scooted closer to Erik, holding on with all he had.

***

"Charles Xavier?" a voice called.

Charles looked up from his fetal position on the couch. Somehow, Charles' head had ended up in Erik's lap, and Erik was combing his fingers through Charles' hair.

"Good afternoon, Charles. I'm Doctor Banner," a man in a crisp white lab coat announced. "I have good news. Your mother is in stable condition. She's weak, but she is steadily regaining her strength. However, we'd like to keep her under psychiatric watch here for a week before she can go home."

"Can I see her?" Charles said, his voice rough from crying. Doctor Banner nodded. "Follow me."

Charles stood up. When Erik didn't follow, Charles tugged on his sleeve, bringing him along.

***

Mrs. Xavier was in the intensive care unit, soon to be transferred to the psychiatric ward. The large room didn't have much privacy; just flimsy green curtains sectioning off different beds.

Charles sat on a stool next to the bed, holding on to his mother's hand. Her arms were wrapped in red-stained bandages, sheets were tucked under her arms, and a heart monitor steadily blipped away nearby.

Erik had gone to get Charles dinner. He managed to wiggle out of his shift, Alex grudgingly taking over for him.

The cafeteria was huge. Thankfully, he knew his way around from cleaning up countless messes. He picked out some soup and a Sprite for Charles, grabbed a half-sandwich for himself, and checked out with a swipe of his employee card.

Charles was bent over on the hospital bed when Erik came back. He looked like he was hardly awake.

"Charles? I brought you some food," Erik said, holding up a plastic bag.

"What is it?" Charles asked, eyeing the styrofoam container.

"Chicken soup and a Sprite. Exciting, I know," Erik said, handing Charles the bag. "I've gotten out of my cleaning duties for today. Had to use one of my sick days, but I don't get sick very much."

"Thanks," Charles said quietly, eating the soup with disinterest. Erik sat down on the stool next to Charles. Charles' mother was sleeping, her blonde hair messily splayed out around her head. She was beautiful, and would not have guessed she was Charles' mother. Upon closer inspection, Erik began to see the similarity: the line of the nose, and soft curve of the jaw. A small part of Erik was angry at this woman for causing Charles so much pain. Nearly every week, Charles mentioned his worry for his mother. It seemed that Charles took care of his mother more than his mother took care of Charles.

Charles finished eating and put the plastic bag in the wastebasket under the bedside table. Slowly, the woman in the bed began to stir, opening her eyes.

"Charlie?" the woman asked, looking up at Charles.

"Mum," Charles breathed in relief, his mouth turning up at the corners. "Mum, I'm here."

"I'm sorry, Charlie, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Xavier said.

"Everything's alright now, mum."

Erik decided to leave mother and son alone for a while. He quietly slipped out of the curtained room, sighing.

_Alles ist okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilery warning: Charles' mother attempted to commit suicide. Not-too-graphic description.


	5. Only You

"Erik?" Charles asked, peeking his head through a door marked with the letters _Custodian's Office_.

"Yes?" Erik responded, looking up from a book.

It seemed Erik was on his lunch break. A box of half-eaten chinese food sat on his desk. Charles looked around the room. Mops, brooms, buckets, and cleaning supplies were strewn around. Erik was dressed in his janitorial uniform; dark green work shirt tuck into dark-green trousers, keys to many, many rooms looped onto his belt. Charles noticed a bottle of Tylenol and a icy-hot pack lying on a shelf. Being a janitor had to be back-breaking work.

"Um, I was just going to take the bus to school. I can't have more than one unexcused absence or I'll get detention, and that'll go on my permanent record—"

"Calm down. Go to school. See your friends. Take your mind off things for a while."

 _But you're my only friend,_ Charles wanted to say. Instead, he nodded solemnly.

"Charles," Erik said. "I'll check on your mother for you later, okay? I'll text you and tell you how she's doing."

"Thank you," Charles said quietly, then left Erik's office.

***

"Mrs. Xavier?" Erik asked, knocking on her room's door. Erik never looked forward to his rounds in the psych ward; he hated seeing people miserable, trapped in their own heads, stressed-out, and suicidal. It reminded him too much of his younger years, living with an aunt who didn't care about him, longing for parents who weren't coming back.

"Come in," a voice said from inside the room. Erik entered.

"You must be Erik," Charles' mother said. She was sitting up in her hospital bed, thumbing through a magazine.

Erik was surprised that she knew who he was, until he realized he had a nametag on. "Yes, I'm Erik. Um, just making the cleaning rounds. You wouldn't happen to need any sweeping?"

"No, it's alright. Come, sit," she said, patting the stool next to her.

Erik shrugged and sat down.

"Charles really likes you, you know," the woman said. "You're all he ever talks about. Well, you and genetics."

"He's always loved genetics," Erik smiled.

There was a pause. "I'm afraid I have a favor to ask," Charles' mother finally said, setting her magazine down on her lap.

"Anything, Mrs. Xavier."

"Sharon."

"Sharon," Erik nodded.

"I need someone to look after Charles while I'm in here. Just for the week. Would you mind checking in on him now and then?"

"He's going to stay at home alone?"

"He's seventeen, I'm sure he can take care of himself."

Emotionally damaged, with suicide fresh on his mind? No _way_ was Erik going to leave Charles alone at home.

"Sharon, it wouldn't be a problem for him to stay at my apartment. I've got a couch," he said.

"I wouldn't want to impose on you."

"Trust me, I would love having Charles over. He's a really great kid."

"He is, isn't he," Sharon smiled.

***

— _Checked on your mother. Se wants me to look after you while she's in the hospital._

_so?_

— _So, you're staying at my place until she's discharged. Can you stay at school until 5:30? I'm picking you up._

_yeah, i can. see u then_

Charles smiled for the first time in days. Staying at Erik's house? Even the most fucked-up situations had silver linings.

***

"Alright, here we are," Erik announced, stepping into his apartment.

"Wow, nice," Charles said, looking around. Erik was in a considerably less shitty apartment building than before, and even if his apartment was extremely tiny, he had no passed-out roommates on the floor.

"This is what happens when you get a pay raise."

Charles smiled. In the time between when he saw Erik this morning and when Erik picked him up after school, Erik had switched from coddling mode to snark mode. He seemed to know exactly what Charles needed, when he needed it.

Charles put his backpack and bag of various necessities (mainly just his PJ's) on the couch. Realizing he hadn't showered in days, he searched for a door, and found two of them. "Um, which one's the bathroom?" Charles asked.

"The door on the left," Erik jerked his head in the general direction. "There's towels and stuff in there if you want to take a shower."

"Thanks," Charles responded, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. Erik's bathroom was a sight to behold, impeccably clean and organized. He found the towels and a bar of soap with no trouble.

As he was showering, he giggled, realizing he was using Erik's shampoo. It smelled heavenly.

***

When Charles got out of the shower, changed into an old t-shirt and boxers, Erik brushed past him, claiming his turn for the shower.

Charles had finished his homework before Erik had picked him up, and he had left his new book on genetics at home, so he wandered around the little apartment with nothing to do.

He went over to the kitchenette, looking at the magnets on the fridge. One of a German flag, one of a shark (apparently it was a souvenir from SeaWorld), and a few photo-frame magnets.

Charles inspected the photos. There was one of a young boy, smiling, riding on the shoulders of a man. A woman looked at them with an exasperated smile. _Must be Erik and his parents,_ Charles figured.

One was of Erik with his arms around two blondes, a young man and a woman. Charles recognized the hospital janitor uniforms on the blonde guy and Erik, and a nurses' uniform on the woman.

Charles  scanned the fridge for any more magnets, and was taken aback when he saw a picture of _himself_. Singing, staring into the distance, his eyes full of enthusiasm. When had Erik taken this? He must have snuck a picture with his cell phone. Charles never did look straight at anyone when he sang; it would have been easy to steal a quick picture. Charles smiled, feeling warm affection spread through him.

Charles moved back to the couch, rummaging through his backpack to see if he had a pen and paper. He may have forgotten to bring his genetics book, but he could make some Punnett squares for fun.

***

Erik emerged from the bathroom wearing a tank top and blue plaid pajama bottoms. Charles tried his best not to stare at Erik's gorgeous arms.

"You okay with peanut butter sandwiches?" he turned from the kitchen to where Charles was scribbling away on the couch.

"Sounds lovely," Charles replied.

They ate peanut butter sandwiches and soda together on the couch. Erik turned on the television, flipping through the channels. Eventually, he found some boring documentary about beavers on Animal Planet. As the night wore on, Charles may have snuggled up to Erik's side, and Erik might have put an arm around Charles' shoulder, but they didn't really know when it had happened.

"It must be pretty disgusting to chew all that tree bark," Erik remarked. Charles could feel the rumble of his voice where his ear was pressed up against his side.

"Well, evolution designed them to be able to gnaw down trees. And building those dams, it's quite spectacular. I wonder what mutation might have caused the instinct to build a home."

"Always the geneticist."

"You know I want to be one when I grow up."

"Thought you wanted to be a professional singer."

"That too."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Charles Francis Xavier will now recite the mutations for hair color to the tune of _Ode to Joy._ "

"Shut up."

"You could probably do that, I bet."

"I could."

"You're still doing your recital, right?" Erik asked.

"Yeah," Charles sighed. "Wish Mum could see it, though."

"I'll record it for her. My phone does videos."

"You'd do that for me?" Charles' lips turned up in a smile. "Thank you."

"So are you going to tell me what your recital songs are, or are you keeping it a secret?"

"Well, I guess I'll sing you one of them," Charles grinned, and stood up. "Come on, your bathroom has great acoustics."

"I could tell by the way your were blurting 'California Gurls' at the top of your lungs."

Charles blushed and elbowed Erik.

Once they were situated in the bathroom, Charles and Erik standing in the shower, Charles took the tuning fork and figured out his starting note. _He still wears it when he goes to bed?_ Erik wondered, chuckling to himself.

Charles straightened his back, put his hands to his sides, and sung.

  
_Looking from a window above it's like a story of love  
Can you hear me  
Came back only yesterday I'm moving farther away  
Want you near me_   


  
_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_   


  
_Sometimes when I think of her name, when it's only a game  
And I need you  
Listen to the words that you say it's getting harder to stay  
When I see you_   


  
_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_   


  
_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_   


  
_This is going to take a long time and I wonder what's mine  
Can't take no more  
Wonder if you'll understand it's just the touch of your hand  
Behind a closed door_   


  
_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_   


On the last note, he tore his eyes away from the shower tiles and looked straight at Erik. 

Erik didn't say anything. No "Good job," no "that was lovely," nothing. Erik simply looked into Charles' eyes, seeking something.

Charles took a deep breath, not breaking Erik's gaze. Erik's eyes flickered down to Charles' lips. Nervously, Charles licked them. Erik's breath hitched.

They were moving closer

and closer

and soon, Erik's forehead softly pressed against Charles'.

Erik closed his eyes. Charles' heart was hammering in his chest, racing with quick, short beats; he was so apprehensive he thought he could burst. He closed his own eyes, and went the final distance.

Erik breathed in deeply, and accepted Charles' kiss. It was awkward; Charles wasn't sure what to do, but Erik guided him, angling Charles' head just so, gently tugging at Charles' lips.

When Erik licked into Charles' mouth, Charles felt a breathy moan escape his throat, and he grabbed Erik's waist, pulling him closer. Erik's tongue slid against Charles' tongue, and it was so good, Charles could cry. Erik moved Charles until they stumbled out of the shower and pressed into the bathroom counter. Erik lifted Charles onto the counter, fitting in the space between Charles' legs. Charles was panting, pulling Erik to his mouth again, kissing Erik with as much passion and love as he felt. Erik ran his fingers through Charles' hair as Charles tangled his fingers in Erik's shirt. Erik bit Charles' lower lip, then pulled it into his mouth, soothing it. Charles practically whimpered, and was all too aware of the tightness in his boxers.

Erik's weight shifted slightly and accidentally brushed against Charles' hardness. Charles moaned, his hips bucking, seeking more friction, but once he realized what had happened, Erik pulled away. He rested his head on Charles' shoulder, and for a while, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of their ragged breathing.

After a moment's pause, Erik stepped away, his eyes averted. "You should get some sleep," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Charles' voice was hardly above a whisper, his cheeks flushed, his lips red and kiss-bitten.

"I'll go get you a pillow," Erik mumbled, leaving the bathroom. Charles slid off of the bathroom counter and made his way back to the couch. Erik appeared from out of his bedroom, a pillow and a quilt under his arm.

Erik made up the couch, and Charles watched, twisting the hemline of his shirt around in his fingers. Neither of them said a word. When Erik patted the couch, signalling he was done, Charles settled in under the quilt. Erik went to turn off the light.

"Goodnight, Charles," Erik said.

"Goodnight, Erik," Charles replied.

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song this chapter: Only You by Yazoo http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdvZa46xb3M


	6. Reaching for the Green Light

It was Friday. Charles was sitting in his English Literature class, staring at his copy of _The Great Gatsby_ , but he couldn't make sense of the words on the page.

He was still playing last night's events in his head, over and over. He and Erik had _kissed_. He could hardly believe it.

But neither of them had mentioned it the next morning. Erik had simply acted like nothing had happened, and Charles wasn't sure whether to be thankful or to punch Erik in the face. Charles loved Erik, he was certain he was in love with Erik. But did Erik love him back? Or was Charles just a way for him to get off? Charles had heard Erik's complaints that he hadn't had a shag in months. Which was surprising, since Erik was gorgeous and could have his pick of women _or_ men. Did he have a thing for boys? Oh dear God, was Erik a _pedophile_?

 _No._ Charles shook his head. Erik wouldn't have been his friend these past few months, wouldn't have shared countless heart-to-hearts if he was just looking for a lay. Besides, in a year he'd be a legal adult. Erik cared about him; he asked about his voice lessons ever week, he went to the movies with Charles even if he thought it was silly. After his mother was hospitalized, he had held Charles close and wiped his tears away and brought him shitty hospital soup. Erik loved him. He knew that.

But if Erik loved him in _that_ way was another question entirely.

"Charles? Could you tell us what you think the green light at the end of the dock symbolizes for Gatsby?"

Charles snapped to attention, making up some bullshit about love and longing that his teacher seemed to swallow eagerly. He sighed, sinking deep into his chair, wanting for the day to end, and at the same time, dreading when he had to face Erik.

***

The car ride was relatively silent. Erik tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

"It's Friday," Erik mentioned.

"So it is," Charles said.

"Do you want to go to the park?"

Charles looked at Erik and smiled. They were going to keep their designated weekly hangout time. Maybe they could pretend things were normal for a while.

They ended up sitting on the swings. Charles swayed back and forth, gripping the swing's chains perhaps a little too hard, but conversation came somewhat easily, even if it was a little strained.

"How was school today?"

"Good. I got my Biology test back. Ninety-seven percent."

"Nice job."

"Could have done better."

"Only you would say that," Erik laughed. "Oh, I checked on your mother today. She's doing well. Says she might be discharged by Wednesday of next week."

"That's good."

"Do you want to see her tonight?"

"No, that's alright. I… I don't like looking at the bandages."

Erik nodded. Charles cleared his throat.

"So I'm still staying at yours."

"I suppose you are."

Charles kicked at the grass. "Are we going to talk about it?"

Erik sighed. "About what?"

"Don't act like you don't know."

"Alright. So we kissed."

Charles rolled his eyes. "It's kind of a big deal."

"Yes, it kind of is."

"Will it happen again?"

"I don't know."

"Would you mind if it happened again?"

Erik tensed. "I'm not sure."

"You're gay, though, right?"

"Yes."

"So, it works…"

"There's also the fact we have eleven years between us."

Charles bit his lip. "M-hm."

"Look, Charles, it's all a bit strange. I can't help but feel like I'm taking advantage."

"You're not."

"But you're still so young. You could look back on this years from now and think of me as… some perverted old man."

"You're not taking advantage of me. Believe me, ever since I met you that day, here at the park, ever since you listened to me sing and complimented my voice… I really liked you. I liked you from the start."

Erik looked over at the picnic table he met Charles at those months ago.

"I suppose I did as well," he said softly.

Charles reached out to touch Erik's hand where it gripped the chain of the swing. Erik didn't pull back. They stayed that way until the sun went down.

***

"When's your shift today?" Charles asked Saturday morning over breakfast (which consisted of orange juice and toaster waffles).

"In an hour," Erik replied, looking at the clock.

"And how long does it go for?"

"Probably 'till four."

"Um, could I meet you at four at the hospital? I want to see mum, and I need you to drive me to my rehearsal."

"Rehearsal?" Erik asked. "Oh, that's right, your recital is tomorrow. Sure thing. You need bus fare?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," Charles answered.

Erik shuffled through his pocket and handed some quarters to Charles. "So you'll be alright to stay here until four?"

"Yeah. I mean, you have the fourth season of Doctor Who on DVD."

Erik smiled. "See you in a while, then." He grabbed his massive set of keys and hooked it onto his belt and headed for the door. "Call me if you need anything."

***

"Got something on your mind?" Alex asked playfully, nudging Erik with his bottle of Windex.

"Sort of," Erik mumbled, intent on cleaning the windows.

"Oh, come on, Erik, your head's been somewhere else for months now," he prodded. "You even went on a date on your day off a couple weeks ago, and don't deny it, because you were whistling Disney love songs the next day."

Erik shrugged. "So what if I like someone?"

"Well, I just think it's nice, since you used to have the emotional capacity of a rock. So what happened? You've been kind of bummed."

"It's complicated."

"Trust me, everything's complicated. Especially when you try telling the chick you're a freakin' janitor."

Erik sprayed on more windex. "It's a question of age difference."

"Screwing an older one, then?"

"Younger. But we haven't… We haven't had sex. And I doubt we will."

"Oh, Erik's got himself some jailbait!" Alex grinned, spritzing Erik with Windex. Erik spluttered.

"Stop that!"

"I say go for it, man," Alex said. "as long as they're not in high school or anything."

Erik gave a noncommittal nod and decided not to say anything after that.

***

Charles knocked on the janitor's office at 4:15.

A young blond man opened the door. "Yes?"

"Oh," Charles said. "I'm looking for Erik."

Alex looked at Charles with disbelief. He turned over his shoulder. "Erik, you dirty bastard!"

Erik pushed Alex out of the way. "Don't mind him," he grumbled. "How's your mother doing?"

"Good," Charles said.

"Ready to go, then?"

"Yeah."

A wolf whistle sounded from inside the office. Erik slammed the door. "Let's go, then."

***

That night, after Erik had picked up Charles from his rehearsal, they sat on the couch, watching Doctor Who. And somehow, their fingers ended up intertwined, and Charles' head leaned on Erik's shoulder.

"So, you planning on telling me what songs you're going to sing tomorrow?"

"I already sang you one," Charles pointed out.

"But you've got to have another."

"They're a surprise," Charles exclaimed. "It wouldn't be fair if I told you."

"Okay, okay."

There was silence again. Charles fidgeted. "Erik," he mumbled.

"Yes?"

"Can you kiss me?" he nearly whispered.

Erik looked at Charles sincerely. "Just a kiss. Nothing more."

Charles snickered, suddenly confident. "I'll try to keep my raging hormones in check."

"Just making sure."

Charles rolled his eyes, pulling Erik down to meet his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you the next chapter will be more exciting. It's got the recital. And, ahem, perhaps some other things....


	7. Tonight

Erik was wiping down waiting room chairs when his phone vibrated.

_im nervous_

Erik typed back a response. 

— _Don't be. You're going to do great._

_seriously tho im gonna puke_

— _I'm going to be there with you soon. Don't worry._

_ok_

Erik checked the time. 2:00. Charles could hang in there for another hour.

***

"What's up, Charles?" 

"Nothing, Sean," Charles replied, nose buried in sheet music.

"You've been singing these songs for ages, dude, you'll do fine." Sean smiled, giving Charles a pat on the shoulder. Charles gave a tentative smile back.

***

Erik's walkie-talked beeped.

"Erik, we need you in room 301."

"Please don't tell me it's vomit."

"Uh…"

Erik grumbled. "Alright, Alex, I'll be right up."

***

Parents and siblings and friends began to file into the auditorium. Charles searched for Erik but couldn't spot him. His heart beat a nerve-wracking rhythm.

Charles wiped his sweaty palms on his fancy trousers. His voice teacher, Angel, took the stage.

"Hello, family and friends," she said, "I hope you're all doing well today. If you didn't get a program, Armando has them in the back."

Angel pulled the crumpled set list out of her pocket. "Our group this year is small but mighty, and they have explored and improved their musical talents quite nicely, if I do say so myself. If Sean Cassidy could please come to the stage, we'll begin!"

Charles turned around to look at the audience. Still no sign of Erik. He tapped his fingers nervously on his leg throughout Sean's songs.

***

After room 301 was squeaky clean, Erik flipped open his phone. 3:15. Fuck. 

He ran to the parking lot, started his car, and tried not to speed as he headed to the library.

***

"Charles Xavier will be performing for us next," Angel smiled, beckoning Charles onto the stage.

Charles walked onto the stage as professionally as possible, smoothing out his suit jacket and adjusting his sheet music on the stand.

Armando began to play the opening lines to _Only You._ He took a deep breath and began to sing.

It was easy, really. The notes spilled out of his mouth automatically with hardly any effort. He wasn't really paying attention. All he was doing was combing his eyes over the seats for Erik.

  
_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_   


He remembered his first kiss, the kiss he had with Erik in the shower when he sang this very song. He grounded himself and sang from his heart.

  


_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_  


Suddenly, Erik burst through the auditorium doors, breathless. He took a seat in the back.

He waved at Charles.

Charles' heart leapt in his chest.

The next song began to play. Charles grinned. He had picked this one out because it reminded him of when he first met Erik.

  


_Tonight, tonight  
It all began tonight I  
saw you and the world went away  
Tonight, tonight  
There's only you tonight  
What you are, what you do, what you say  
Today, all day I had the feeling  
A miracle would happen  
I know now I was right  
For here you are  
And what was just a world is a star  
Tonight _  


  


_Tonight, tonight  
The world is full of light  
With suns and moons all over the place  
Tonight, tonight  
The world is wild and bright  
Going mad Shooting sparks into space  
Today, the world was just an address  
A place for me to live in  
No better than all right  
But here you are  
And what was just a world is a star  
Tonight _  


  


_Good night, good night  
Sleep well and when you dream  
Dream of me  
Tonight_  


The auditorium began to clap. Charles had hit the high notes perfectly; his voice ran clear as a bell. Even though he was a tenor, he managed to sing the lower notes very well. Charles appreciated the applause, but he wasn't done yet. He reached out and tapped the mic.

"Um, I know this isn't in the program, I just had the idea earlier today, and Angel didn't mind… I haven't practiced very much, so bear with me. But I really need to sing this."

Armando began to play. Erik eyes went wide as a familiar melody filled the air.

  


_'Tis the gift to be simple,  
'Tis the gift to be free,  
'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be.  
And when we find ourselves in the place just right;  
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight._  


  


_When true simplicity is gained,  
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,  
To turn, turn will be our delight, 'till by turning, turning we come round right._  


Charles smiled.

"Thank you, everyone," he said, walking back to his seat. 

***

"Alright, everyone, there's refreshments in the next room if you want to make your way over," Angel announced,

Everyone got congratulations from their parents. Charles frowned. He wished his mother was there.

Erik approached him, pulling him into a hug. Charles hugged back tightly.

"Did you get it on video?"

"I missed the first song, but I've got the rest of it."

"Thank you, Erik," Charles said into his shoulder.

Charles was soon swarmed by compliments from his fellow voice students' families. He nodded and accepted them all with a bright smile. Charles seemed to have stolen the show.

"I've got to get back," Erik said. "Can you take the bus back to the house?"

"Yeah."

Erik gave Charles another hug. "I'll show this to your mother while I'm there."

Charles pressed his forehead against Erik's chest, and spoke in a hushed tone. "I want to kiss you again."

"Tonight," Erik promised, giving his arm a firm squeeze.

"Tonight." Charles affirmed.

***

Erik got back to his apartment at seven. Charles was sitting on the couch, reading a book. He had changed out of his fancy clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt.

"I'm back," Erik announced. "I also have Chinese takeout."

"Sounds perfect," Charles said, jumping up to inspect the plastic bag Erik carried. "I'm calling dibs on the broccoli beef."

They settled at the kitchen table. "So how was work?" Charles asked.

"If you want to keep your food down, you don't want to know."

Charles recoiled. "Ugh."

"The perks of being a janitor," Erik chuckled.

When they were finished, Erik turned to Charles. "You want the first shower?"

"Sure," Charles nodded, went to his bag to procure some pajamas, and headed to the bathroom.

***

Erik came out of the bathroom wearing his pajamas and toweling off his hair. "Scoot over."

Charles obliged, giving Erik room to sit next to him on the couch.

"What are we watching?" Erik asked, flinging his towel across the room.

"Something about koalas, I think. Or snakes. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Hm? And why was that?"

"I was thinking about other things," Charles said, moving closer to Erik. He moved in to kiss Erik, but stopped suddenly. 

"You brushed your teeth, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm not kissing you if you have fortune-cookie breath."

Erik laughed. "Come here and kiss me already."

Charles kissed Erik; angling his head to get the most contact possible. In the short few times they had kissed, Charles had sure learned a lot. 

"Can we turn the stupid documentary off," Erik mumbled.

"What, koalas don't get you all warm and tingly?" Charles teased, but reached for the remote and hit the OFF button.

Charles then pulled Erik down onto the couch. Erik smiled at Charles' boldness, placing a peck on his lips before moving to mouth along Charles' jaw, then placed and open-mouthed kiss to his neck. Charles tried to bite back a moan, but it ended up escaping his lips anyway.

"Don't hold back, Charles," Erk whispered hoarsely into his ear, "I want to hear you."

Charles nodded, then moved to kiss Erik again. 

Suddenly, Charles grabbed Erik's hips to grind them against his own. Erik let out a breathy sound.

"Charles," he groaned, "what are you doing?" 

But Charles simply rocked his hips up again. He moved his hands under Erik's shirt, brushing along his sides. He tugged at Erik's shirt, signaling he wanted it _off_ , and _now_.

Erik pulled away to lift his shirt up and over his head. Charles watched him, eyes raking over Erik's bare chest and stomach. He ran a hand over Erik's chest, moved his thumb across a nipple, making Erik arch his back into the touch.

Erik moved to take off Charles' shirt, but Charles hesitated.

"What's the matter?" Erik asked, concerned, wondering if he had crossed some sort of boundary.

"N-nothing," Charles responded. "It's just… I'm not very muscular." He reached down and pulled his shirt off.

"You're beautiful," Erik whispered, ghosting kisses along Charles' stomach. Charles sighed and let his eyes flutter closed.

Erik moved back up, straddling Charles. Charles moved to take off his pants, but hesitated.

"Can you— do you want to," he stuttered.

"Only if you're sure," Erik said.

"I really want to."

Erik nodded then, hooking his thumbs into Charles' boxers. "Tilt your hips a up bit for me, sweetheart," he said. Charles face flushed a deeper shade of red; Erik knew Charles liked it when he called him that. Charles complied with Erik's request, and soon Charles was completely naked.

"What do we do now," Charles breathed.

"I'll start you off slow, tell me if you want to stop, and I'll stop. Alright?"

"Alright," Charles said, getting comfortable on the couch.

Erik licked a stripe along his palm, then grasped Charles' cock, pumping his hand up and down, tortuously slow. Charles gasped and squirmed, hips bucking. Erik held Charles' hips down with his free hand. Charles whimpered.

"Is there something you want?" Erik teased, rubbing his thumb along Charles' slit before stroking down again.

"Could you go faster?" Charles pleaded.

"Hm?" Erik twisted his wrist a bit on the upstroke.

"Oh God, Erik, faster, please!"

Erik smiled, gripping Charles more firmly, picking up the pace. Charles moved his hips with Erik's strokes, moaning with abandon. His head fell back onto the couch, his eyes shut tight as Erik moved his hand faster and faster. Charles realized he wasn't going to last very long.

"Erik, I'm going to come," Charles whined.

"Come for me, sweetheart," Erik's voice rumbled in Charles' ear.

With a loud, drawn-out cry, Charles came. Come striped over his stomach and it was possibly the hottest thing Erik had seen in his life.

Charles sat up on the couch to kiss Erik. Erik sighed, returning the kiss, and soon he could feel Charles' hands fumbling for his pants.

"You sure you want to," Erik gasped out.

"Yes," Charles said adamantly, and tugged at Erik's jeans until Erik laughed and took them off himself. Charles seemed to stop for a while and Erik finally noticed that Charles was _staring_.

"Problem?"

"Nothing, just… Bigger than I anticipated."

Erik chuckled, giving Charles a kiss of measurement. "You know we don't have to do any of that if you don't want to."

"I know, but eventually…" Charles said.

Erik took a deep breath. "Yes, I'd like that too. But only when your'e ready."

Charles nodded. Erik smiled. The smile disappeared when Charles slipped off the couch and onto his knees.

"Charles, what are you— _fuck!_ "

Charles had swallowed as much of Erik's cock that could possibly fit in his mouth. Erik could feel it hit the back of Charles' throat. 

"Oh God, Charles, where did you _learn_ how to do this," Erik gasped.

Charles released Erik's cock with a wet _pop_. "Voice lessons," he said. "For a clear sound, you need to open up the back of the throat."

"Fuck."

Charles took Erik back into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks, slowly letting most of Erik's cock slip out of his mouth, before taking it in again. He licked the slit of Erik's cock, remember how good it was when Erik rubbed at Charles' slit with his thumb, and Erik moaned.

"Charles," he warned, but Charles took no heed, bobbing his head even faster. Erik moaned and came down Charles' throat, Charles managing to swallow most of it down.

Charles looked up at Erik, as if seeking approval.

"Come here," Erik said softly, reaching his arms out. Charles climbed back onto the couch and settled into Erik's arms.

Erik started to drift off. He thought he heard Charles say "I love you," but he probably imagined it.

Probably.


	8. Figuring it Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly porn this chapter. Hope none of you object.   
> More plotty things will be happening in the chapters to come. Not too many chapters left to go, I'm afraid. Perhaps 2 or 3, plus an epilogue.  
> Happy reading! :)

Erik woke up to the sound of his cell phone alarm ringing. He sighed, reaching out to grab it, but just got a handful of armrest.

_Armrest?_

Oh god, he fell asleep on the couch. With Charles.

Naked.

Charles was still asleep, but probably wouldn't be for long if Erik's phone kept making a racket. He grabbed it off of the coffee table in front of the couch and turned it off. Just past 6:00. Good, he wasn't going to be late for work.

Erik went to his room to get dressed, and grab a blanket. He put the blanket over Charles, then rifled through Charles' backpack to find his phone.

Charles' alarm was set for 7:00, and it looked like he did his homework. Erik put the phone on the coffee table, went to get his keys, and left the apartment.

***

Charles plopped down in his seat next to Raven for Modern Literature. She took in his disheveled appearance and grinned. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

"Thanks, Raven."

"You look like you got _no_ sleep. Late night?" Raven winked.

"You could say that," Charles mumbled, burying his face in his desk when his face burned with embarrassment. All morning he replayed the night before.

Especially when Erik had murmured _Come for me, sweetheart_ in his ear.

His face turned redder. Raven giggled.

"So, was she cute?"

"He."

"I thought you were pining after Moira."

"That was last year," Charles groaned. "Besides. I can't like guys too?"

"You can like whoever you like," Raven said. "I just haven't heard you talk about having a crush on _anyone_ this year."

"I haven't? Hm."

Charles had effectively killed the conversation. Thankfully, the bell signaling the start of class saved him from any awkward silence to follow.

***

Erik was wrought with worry.

Had they gone to far? Was it too soon?

He'd committed statutory rape according to law.

Did Charles even know what he wanted? Charles didn't know any better. He'd had no experience.

They needed to talk.

Erik sighed as he scrubbed the hallway floor. It was going to be a long day.

***

Erik picked up Charles at school after he was done with work.

"I realize it's Monday," Erik began, "but would you like to go to the park?"

"Alright."

Erik parked the car and they walked down the street to the familiar grassy area they both loved. Charles sat down across from Erik at a picnic table.

"We need to talk," Erik said.

"I know," Charles responded, his eyes averted.

"Listen, you're seventeen, Charles. How do you know you even want this?"

"Because I've wanted it more than anything else," Charles said adamantly.

"How is it going to work? We can't go on dates, not really, not dates that look like dates at least. We can't kiss or hold hands in public."

"But we can when nobody's looking." Charles reached under the table to grasp Erik's hand. Erik didn't protest and threaded his fingers with Charles'.

"That's how this relationship is going to be," Erik stated. "Only when nobody's looking. Hidden. A secret. Charles, you can't even tell your own mother."

"I know."

"And what happens when you go off to college?" Erik asked.

Charles sighed. "I don't know. I'm really worried about it. I mean, I'd come home for summer and the holidays. And it's only four years, I can do my graduate work at a more local university…"

"If you want to experiment a bit in college, I wouldn't have a problem. You shouldn't be tied down to me when you're still young and figuring things out."

This seemed to put Charles at ease. "You'll forgive me for drunken hookups?"

Erik laughed. "I'd even go as far to say I'd encourage them. It's good practice."

"But what about you? Won't you want… to, you know… Have sex? When I'm gone?"

"Charles, before I met you, I hadn't had a boyfriend in two years. I survived on porn and my right hand. I can probably do it again," Erik said frankly.

"Oh. Ok. It just doesn't seem fair."

Erik squeezed Charles' hand reassuringly. "I do love you, you know."

"I know," Charles replied. "I love you too."

Erik leaned in and kissed Charles softly. "Remember, we've still got a year together. Lots of time to figure things out."

"And make out."

"That too."

***

That night, Charles lay awake in bed (or rather, couch) and found himself thinking an awful lot about last night's events.

Did that count as sex? Well, it was certainly farther than he had ever gone before, and he knew people measured that as second base or third or something like that, but he knew home run was actual _fucking_.

Were they going to actually… do it? The whole nine yards?

Mind you, Charles knew how it worked, he'd watched plenty of gay porn… he knew it involved lots of lube…

But did it actually feel good? Or did it just feel good for the one… _doing the deed_?

Charles groaned. He should have googled this. Although if he'd forgotten to clear the history his mother wouldn't be too pleased to see "does anal sex feel good?" in the recent searches.

Maybe Charles _was_ too naive for Erik. Erik had probably done it loads of times. He must have thought it felt good.

Unless he was the one pitching instead of catching? Or did he switch?

Charles could ask Erik. After all, they were in some kind of a relationship now. It wouldn't be that awkward. And besides, Erik and Charles were best friends, and the more experienced best friend always tells you about these things.

So that's how Charles found himself outside Erik's door, tentatively giving it a knock.

"Come in," Erik's voice came from inside the room.

Charles entered the room and closed the door behind him, although he kept a grip on the doorknob in case he needed to make a quick escape. Erik was in his pajamas, sitting up in bed, reading a book. Not looking menacing at all. Charles took a deep breath. He could do this.

"Um," was all he could manage to get out.

Erik quirked an eyebrow and set his book aside. "Do you need an extra pillow or blanket? I've got several in the chest of drawers there."

"No, I just had a question."

"You're blushing," Erik noted.

"Uh."

"So it's an awkward question."

"Sort of."

"Charles, I jerked you off last night and you gave me a blowjob," Erik sighed, running a hand though his hair. "I think we're past awkward situations."

Charles tried to swallow the nervous lump in his throat. "Well, you know, sex…"

"What about it?"

"Does it, you know, feel… good?"

"I imagine that's rather the point."

"No, I mean, getting fucked."

"Oh," Erik said, suddenly understanding. "Well, I quite enjoy it. It can be a bit overwhelming, and definitely weird if you haven't done it before. But there is such thing as the prostate."

"Um… Alright."

"We don't have to rush into anything," Erik reminded Charles. "If you don't want to do it, we won't."

"No, I really, really do. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. It's just… It seems like it would hurt."

"Not if you do it properly."

Charles looked down at his feet. "Could… could you show me? I mean, the prostate… stuff. I've tried putting my finger in there, and it just doesn't feel good."

Erik nodded. "I'd be happy to show you, Charles."

"…Right now?" Charles asked, walking forward (perhaps a bit too excitedly) to sit on the foot of Erik's bed.

Erik laughed. "A bit eager, there, aren't we?" He looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. "Charles, it's almost eleven-thirty."

"I'm a teenager, I'm programmed to stay up late," Charles reasoned.

"Clearly programmed to be a bottle full of hormones as well, apparently," Erik raised an eyebrow, looking at the tent in Charles' boxers starting to form.

"Um." Charles crossed his legs, face heating.

"C'mere," Erik said, smiling, arms outstretched. Charles crawled forward on the bed to kiss Erik soundly.

Erik guided Charles to lie down, not breaking the kiss, and tugged down Charles' boxers, discarding them on the floor. Erik leaned over to grab something out of the drawer in the bedside table, and Charles turned to see it was a bottle of lube.

"Alright, spread your legs a bit. Let me put a pillow under your hips, there we go."

Charles' breathing sped up. "It's not going to hurt, right?"

"It won't hurt. It'll feel plenty weird, though, I promise."

Charles nodded, then turned his head to stare at the wall and not look at Erik.

Charles heard the bottle click shut, then Erik's hand at his thigh. Charles gasped when one of Erik's slicked-up fingers brushed his hole.

"Relax," Erik encouraged. "It'll be much more difficult if you're tense."

Charles relaxed his muscles and shut his eyes tight. Erik managed to insert just the tip of his finger inside Charles.

"Yeah, it's weird," Charles affirmed.

"It gets better, trust me."

After waiting a moment, Erik inserted the rest of his finger. He let Charles get used to the intrusion. Charles breathed deeply, trying to remain as relaxed as possible.

"Alright, I'm going to put two in now," Erik warned before removing his finger and coming back in very slowly with two. A moan escaped Charles' throat.

"Alright?" Erik asked.

Charles nodded, biting his lip.

Erik pushed deeper, bit by bit, crooking his fingers up …

"Ah!" Charles cried, gripping the sheets. Erik smirked. Bingo.

"Feel good?" Erik chuckled, moving his fingers in a circular motion.

Charles responded with a heavy, drawn-out moan. "Yes," he breathed.

Erik leaned down to press a kiss to Charles' forehead. "Told you it's good."

"Oh god, yes, _Erik_ , it's good," Charles groaned, reaching down to stroke himself.

Erik moved his fingers back and forth, in and out, but not too fast, making sure to brush against Charles' prostate each time. Charles moaned and writhed under Erik's touch, stroking himself with abandon.

"Gonna come— Erik," Charles bit out, pumping wildly.

Erik bent down to kiss Charles, swallowing his cries of ecstasy as he came all over his hand and his shirt.

Erik's fingers gently slipped out of Charles. Charles giggled, giddy with post-orgasmic glee.

"If that's what getting fucked is like, sign me up," Charles exclaimed.

"Well, to be honest, my cock is quite a bit bigger than two fingers."

"But I bet it's still good."

"It is," Erik agreed. "But we don't have to do it until you're ready."

"More like, when you're done with your hang-up on preserving my teenage innocence," Charles snorted.

"I just don't want to rush into this too fast," Erik reasoned.

Charles sighed. "Fair enough. Now lie down, I want you to come too."

Erik had acquired quite the raging hard-on in the last few minutes, thanks to all the noises Charles was making, so he was happy to oblige when Charles shoved his hands down Erik's pants like the eager teenager he was.


End file.
